Grandma Weezie

   On Sunday, November 25th, the Grandmother Hall of Fame saw the passing of one of its foremost members. Louise Cole entered the unhindered presence of the Lord, and left us all missing her terribly.





   When I think of my grandma, many things come to mind. When she would wrap Christmas gifts, she would always hide the names of the recipients somewhere in the designs of the wrapping paper. My brother and I were the designated ones to find the names and distribute the gifts. Also on Christmas, she would always get me a new nutcracker (to add to my enromous collection). On New Year's day, we would always go to her house to watch college football and eat chili that she had prepared. It was at grandma's house that my brother and watched our first Saturday morning cartoons. It was at grandma's house that we first watched The Prestige and Miracle while eating a huge bowl of popcorn and drinking Diet Coke (a favorite of hers). I remember the time when she was about to tear off the head of the umpire who botched a call and made us lose our Little League District Final game. It took everything in my mom's persuasive power to calm her down. She was always our biggest fan. As my brother notes, there were only ever two people he could hear as he was playing, my dad and my gandma. I remember all the times she would take my brother and I to horse pulls in Northern Michigan. It was her goofy way of celebrating the fact that she could see us again after her winter in Florida.



   It was not subtle to anyone that she loved my brother an I, her only two grandchildren. As my grandpa told me today, "You and Benjamin are really the only reasons that grandma wanted to go on living at all. Otherwise, she was anxious to leave this world. She wanted to be with her precious Savior. She wanted to go 'home.'" That was another thing that was not subtle in her life; she was always anxious to meet Jesus face to face. In the songs she played, in the hymns she sung, in the words she spoke, in the letters she wrote us, she displayed an eagerness to be in perfect fellowship with the Lord. That legacy was passed on to us. When I think of her death, I am not overcome with grief. Yes, I do miss her a lot. But I am eternally happy for her. She is better off than all of us. She is experiencing the culmination of her salvation: glorification. It was an eternal joy when she was justified. There was rejoicing in the heavenly court. It was evident to the world to see her her sanctification unfold. But now, as I write, she can finally rest in the fulfillment and culmination of her salvation, the fact that she is completely freed from the presence of sin. Not only that, because her sin has been removed, and Christ's righteous record applies to her, she is granted complete and perfect access to the presence of God with out fear or shame. And in this, I am very happy for her.

   In the wake of her death, I am not angry at God for taking her from me. And I am not overwhelmed with my own finity, though it does come closer to home now. Instead, however, I yearn to leave a legacy of love and faithfulness only half as well as she did. I want to make every moment count. I want to live my purpose all the way to the end. And when I finish this race, I desire with everything in me to hear the Savior say, "Well done."

   P.S. Give Jesus a hug from me, Weezie.